asy. "There's between fifty and sixty within a square mile of
this tower. Some's fenced in--most isn't. Some of their mouths are grown
over with bramble and bracken. And all of 'em are of tremendous depth. A
man could be thrown down one of those mines, sir, and it 'ud be a long
job finding his body! But all that's very frightening to the lady, and
we'll hope nothing of it happened. Still----"

"It has to be faced," said Betty. "Listen--I am Mr. Horbury's niece, and
I'm offering a reward for news of him. Will you keep your eyes and ears
open while you're in this neighbourhood?"

The tinker promised that he would do his best, and presently he went
back to his fire, while Neale and Betty turned away towards the town.
Neither spoke until they were half-way through the wood; then Betty
uttered her fears in a question.

"Do you think the finding of that pipe shows he was--there?" she asked.

"I'm sure of it," replied Neale. "I wish I wasn't. But--I saw him with
this pipe in his lips at two o'clock on Saturday! I recognized it at
once."

"Let's hurry on and see the police," said Betty. "We know something now,
at any rate."

Polke, they were told at the police-station, was in his private house
close by: a polite constable conducted them thither. And presently they
were shown into the superintendent's dining-room, where Polke,
hospitably intent, was mixing a drink for a stranger. The stranger,
evidently just in from a journey, rose and bowed, and Polke waved his
hand at him with a smile, as he looked at the two young people.

"Here's your man, miss!" said Polke cheerily. "Allow
me--Detective-Sergeant Starmidge, of the Criminal Investigation
Department."

CHAPTER VIII

THE SATURDAY NIGHT STRANGER

Neale, who had never seen a real, live detective in the flesh, but who
cherished something of a passion for reading sensational fiction and the
reports of criminal cases in the weekly newspapers, looked at the man
from New Scotland Yard with a feeling of surprise. He knew
Detective-Sergeant Starmidge well enough by name and reputation. He was
the man who had unravelled the mysteries of the Primrose Hill murder--a
particularly exciting and underground affair. It was he who had been
intimately associated with the bringing to justice of the Camden Town
Gang--a group of daring and successful criminals which had baffled the
London police for two years. Neale had read all about Starmidge's
activities in both cases, and of